


Festivities, Food, and Family

by mageicalwishes



Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [28]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anniversary, Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown Day 28, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet, Simon Has Made Far Too Much Food, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mageicalwishes/pseuds/mageicalwishes
Summary: "I’m over the bloody moon. After everything that happened after we left Watford, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get to see this Snow - a truly joyful Snow - again. And it broke my heart. Yet, here we are, spending our fifth anniversary together, surrounded by friends and family in our own little London flat."Carry On Countdown 2020, Day 28 - Party + Carry On Countdown 2020, Day 29 - Gift Giving
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027147
Kudos: 36
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Baz**

Simon Snow is in his element. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so much since that night I took him to see the stars again. The night we both said our ‘I Love You’s. 

Our little Christmas get-together has lit him up from within (Or, well, it’s not really that ‘little’ considering that Bunce’s  _ entire  _ family is here). 

He’s bounding about the flat, merrily. Bringing dish after delicious dish from the kitchen - Gammon cooked in Black Treacle (Apparently one of Nigella’s marvelous creations), a platter full of Roasties, a sugared Yule log, and tens of Gingerbread people, decorated to look like the four of us (Bunces with Purple hair, Bazs with crudely drawn Fangs, Sheps in his trademark denim jacket, and little Simons, wings, tail, and all). 

He’s barely sat down all evening, only pausing his culinary marathon for all the necessary small-talk and stiff introductions (The look of sheer panic on his face when Dr Wellbelove embraced him was enough to send me laughing all the way into the New Year). 

And I’m … well, I’m  _ over the bloody moon. _ After everything that happened after we left Watford, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get to see this Snow - a  _ truly joyful Snow  _ \- again. And it broke my heart. 

Yet, here we are, spending our fifth anniversary together, surrounded by friends and family in our own little London flat. Living together as proper, functional boyfriends - Who talk, and kiss, and share, and love. Who do everything fifth-year Baz never dreamed we would. Who do everything two-years-ago Baz hadn’t dared hope we would. 

I catch his eye from across the room and he grins around a mouthful of Black Forest Gateau. I grin right back (Like I always do). He swallows it down in that showy way he always does, before mouthing out a ‘Sap’. 

I think about denying it - About shaking my head and calling him a prat, or something. But, instead, I just shrug. 

_ I’m hopelessly weak for him, and he knows it. There’s no point pretending otherwise. I am. Always have been. And, with any luck, if he’ll let me, always will be.  _


	2. Gift Giving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Carry On Countdown Prompt: Gift Giving

** Simon **

Once everybody else has left, and it’s just me and Baz, our bed and Jim Carey’s Grinch, I decide it’s time to give him his present. It isn’t much (Especially considering that really it’s for two celebrations - Our fifth  _ and _ Christmas), but he won’t mind. 

“Baz,” I mumble, shaking his shoulder lightly. 

He hums against my chest, questioningly.

“Do you wanna’ know what your present is yet?” 

“Of course,” he smiles. “I’m not going to stop you lavishing me with gifts, Snow.”

I huff out a laugh. “Well … it’s hardly lavishing. But, I think you’ll like it, yeah?” 

“Of course, I will.”

“Okay, well it’s not, like, a  _ physical _ thing. So, I’m just gonna’ have to tell you, okay? I was gonna make a fancy card and all that, but I forgot to go to the shops, and then I wasn’t really sure what to write.”

“Simon, love,” he cooes, taking a hold of my hands. “You don’t have to try and explain, I’ll be happy with whatever it is,  _ however _ it is. Okay? So just … spill.” 

“Well … I was thinking I could take you to Italy soon. You know, like on a holiday. Just the two of us.” I’m staring down at my hands, scraping at the side of my thumbs. He’ll like it, I’m sure. But … we don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to holidays. And, I don’t know if this is … too much. We’ve said we love each other. We’ve moved in together. But something about booking a holiday seems like … a lot. I think because to book one you’ve got to set a we’ll-definitely-still-be-together-this-far-in-the-future date. “Just ‘cause, I know you wanted to go, so I thought it would be okay to go together. And, um, I know your parents went on their honeymoon there. I - I thought maybe you’d like to go some of the places they did.” 

He’s smiling, which is good _ (It doesn’t look fake. It’s not fake. He wouldn’t fake).  _ But, he still hasn’t said anything. So, I just … carry on. 

“I haven’t booked it yet ‘cause I was waiting to see when is best for you. But, I’ve got more than enough money saved up, and I’ve done loads of research - Well, Googling - and I have a whole list of places I think you’d like, that I wanna’ take you to. Sorry it’s not a real present, more of idea, I can -”

“Love,” he interrupts, nudging my chin upwards, so that I’m looking at him. At the happy little crinkles by his eyes, and the slight (But definitely present) blush on his cheeks. “It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” 

I exhale loudly, relieved.  _ God. He wouldn’t pretend. He likes it. He must do. _ And then he’s resting his forehead against mine, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of my nose.

“Stop thinking, Snow. I can hear your mind from here.” 

“Can’t,” I mumble. “Will do in a minute.” 

“Hmmm,” he hums. “That won’t do ... How about you look up for me, love?”

I do, and I’m blown away by the softness of it all.  _ Who would’ve thought? _ Baz Pitch, magicking Mistletoe above  _ our _ bed to calm me down.  _ It’s ridiculous. So bloody brilliantly ridiculous!  _

“You don’t need Mistletoe for that, you know?” 

“Oh, I know,” he says, smiling salaciously. And I’m proud of him - Proud of  _ us _ \- for getting to this point. Where we can relax around one another. Where he can be typically cocksure of himself again, comfortably stable in the knowledge that we can  _ have _ this - That it isn’t going to go away again. “But I  _ love _ to make a show of it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed :) Comments and kudos, appreciated.  
> My Tumblr: [Link text](https://mageicalwishes.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
